One Quantum Universe, Scrambled, Hard
by Aunt.Sue.Nihg.Charthaigh
Summary: Some say that with every decision we make, every action taken, we create an alternate universe. This fan novel takes place just after the events depicted in the episode: Parallels. Our universe got all its people back, but what about all those other universes? Warf, Data, Kestra, and Yar find out the hard way. (* footnotes)
1. Chapter 1

**The Star Trek franchise was the brain child of Gene Rodenberry, the Great Bird of the Galaxy. It is now owned by somebody else, certainly not me!**

Worf felt consciousness return unusually slowly for someone with his warrior reflexes. The beeps and hums of the shuttle's operation filtered in first, then he felt the carpeted floor beneath him; finally he opened eyes that stung from the light and saw two women sprawled near him. The shuttle, the floor, and the women were all unexpected. He'd really expected to be dead.

It had started with the odd little changes that were more confusing than anything. A painting was out of place on the wall. The cake was chocolate instead of yellow—probably the influence of his wife—but why did he remember the yellow cake? Gradually the changes escalated. Deanna was not his wife. Deanna was Riker's wife. Picard was dead. Picard and Deanna were both dead. When the ship finally popped into space near about 200,000 other Enterprises, he was on the bridge of a beleaguered derelict, courtesy of the Borg. Captain Riker had ordered him to fire on the shuttle and he had obeyed once. As he moved to obey the second time, the lights of a transporter caught him. The next thing he knew, he was laying on the floor next to two women.

Feeling the aches and pains of a poor transport, he pulled himself to his feet. He checked his position and ignored the women for the moment,. They were in free space. There was no fleet of Enterprises dotting the view. Somehow the universe had shifted one more time.

"Where are we, Captain?"

The voice was familiar. Worf turned to see who spoke. "Tasha[1]? "

"That's right. It's still me. I'm still alive, and I'm still not your wife."

"Wife!"

"Lay off, Captain. I didn't believe your fairy story about a universe for every decision back on the ship, and I don't believe it now. You know, you've acted weird ever since your brother became the head of the Klingon Empire.[2]"

"Look," Worf had had a long day, and although it wasn't over, he was about to make it a whole lot better or strangle a skinny blond human. He didn't much care which. "You're not my wife. On that, I agree."

It stopped Tasha cold. "Hmm, well, yes." She cast about for something else to say. Her eyes lit on the only remaining form. "Who's she?"

"I do not know, but she appears to be in need of assistance."

"You look for a tricorder...medical, if we're lucky." Tasha knelt down next to the inert form and checked for a pulse. "She's alive."

"Yes." Worf had found the tricorder in its regular compartment. "There are no injuries."

"Then why isn't she awake?"

As if to give lie to Tasha's question, the mystery lady groaned and opened her eyes to see Yar crouching over her. "Who the hell are you?"

The voice was hauntingly familiar, as was the accent. Worf would have sworn he'd never met this woman before if it weren't for them. "I am Worf." Best to keep it simple, "This is Tasha Yar." He looked around the shuttle for a moment before adding, "You are aboard a federation shuttle craft."

"I know damn well what we're aboard." The woman answered impatiently, "I'm the one who stole it."

"Then you must have been the one who beamed me over here." Tasha got the words out about a millisecond before Worf could.

"I read in the Captains' mind that one of them was going to fire on you. Even I could tell you weren't going to survive a phaser blast. I did the only thing I could think of. I beamed you aboard."

"And then the ship exploded." Tasha finished for her. "Thank you. But why did he beam with me?"

"He did not." The voice came from the other room and all three looked to the sound. Walking out of the shadows near the exit was Data dressed in Klingon attire with the coloring and latex forehead to match.

"Data!" It was in three-part unison.

"Perhaps it would be best if each of us told our personal histories. We seem to each come from a different quantum universe."

"I will begin." Worf was glad to see Data. Here was an anchor in his rapidly shifting world. All of them recognized him. It would be a point of commonality. "I am Lt. Worf, Security Chief aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise. My commanding officer is Captain Jean Luc Picard."

"Picard? But he died four years ago in a battle with the Borg[3]." Tasha interrupted.

"No, Captain Picard died in a prison camp two years ago[4]." The mystery woman corrected.

"Please do not interrupt." Data said calmly, "Each of your personal histories will be different."

"That is correct." Worf nodded to Data with satisfaction, "In my history Captain Picard was killed by the Borg.[5]" He waited for comments, but when none were forthcoming he continued, "I am married to Counselor Deanna Troi." Tasha gave him a startled look, but didn't interrupt. "Lieutenants LaForge and Crusher and I were working on Geordie's visor when the Cardassians[6] first attacked our ship. It jostled my hand, and the next thing I know I was standing in the corridor outside my quarters. Captain Riker was asking me how the Bat'leth tournament went. I had not attended the Bat'leth tournament, but in my hand was the trophy for first place. I told the Captain that it was successful, and quickly entered my quarters. Deanna had organized a surprise party, against my express wishes. Commander Data gave me a painting, which my wife hung on the wall facing the entry. I cut the cake, yellow cake, and then a wave of dizziness forced me to close my eyes. When I opened them, the cake I had been holding was chocolate, not yellow. The painting was moved to another wall."

Data held up a hand. "That is sufficient for the moment. At that point you had made at least two quantum shifts."

"We determined that fact a short time later. The pulse from Geordie's visor must have been the trigger."

Nodding, Data gestured to Tasha, "Would you care to go next?"

Without preamble, she began. "I'm Lt. Commander Tasha Yar. I'm security chief aboard the Enterprise. My immediate superior is Commander Data, first officer under Captain Picard. There is no such creature as Riker aboard our ship, and I've never heard of Deanna." She glanced at Worf, "Sorry." Shifting in her seat, she continued. "The first problem I encountered was when I met Lt. Worf at the shuttle. He, uh," Yar started to blush. "He kissed me. Said he was happy to be home, and how were the kids. I decked him."

The other woman snickered. Worf sent her a dagger look and growled deep in his throat. She tapered off to just a smile, and Tasha continued. "We were both called to the bridge. The Cardassians were harassing a telescopic array in our sector. Ever since the Bajorans kicked them off Cardasia, they've been antsy to pick a fight with just about anyone.

"We met Geordie in the turbo lift. Just as the doors to the lift were opening on the bridge, the Cardassians hit the Enterprise with a salvo of torpedoes. It shook the ship, and Worf lost his footing. He grabbed me; Geordie grabbed me; and then something else grabbed me. It was like the grandfather of dizziness. When it went away, I was on the bridge of a completely unfamiliar ship. The colors were different. There was only one chair in the command area. All the consoles were different.[7]

"But the people were the same. Picard, Data, Geordie, Worf, they were all there. Oh, but the Cardassians had become Bajorans. And they weren't trying to destroy the telescope array; they were trying to settle on it. Said the Ferengi had sold it to them."

The nameless woman grinned, "They probably had. You know the Ferengi."

"No, I don't know the Ferengi," Yar said. "They were discovered by the U.S.S. Potemkin less than a year ago.[8]"

"I interrupted, I'm sorry." The woman leaned back against the bulkhead and folded her arms.

"Yes. As I said, the people were the same, but the uniforms were all jumbled up. Picard was a civilian, Worf had on the insignia of a captain. We just about sorted out what to do with the settlers, when suddenly we were surrounded by thousands of Enterprises."

The mystery woman waved her hand impatiently. "And the rest, as they say, is history."

"That would bring us to your story." Data said, gesturing to the mystery woman.

The woman laughed. "Mine is very short, and I think you're going to love parts of it." She said pointedly to Worf. "I was at a Bat'leth[9] tournament with my mother and step-father. I hate Bat'leth. It's all blood and bodies grunting and sweating. Mother loves it because of the bodies grunting and sweating. When Worf won, mother was ecstatic. They decided to celebrate by heading up to the Fire falls and having a picnic. Since it's the two of them, you can translate that as orgy. I couldn't stand it any longer. I stole a shuttle and headed back to my duty station on the Enterprise. Part way there, Worf shows up in the co-pilot's seat.

"We've been casting around looking for the Enterprise ever since. We began to retrace our path back when we started getting a whole bunch more Enterprises than was comfortable. Pretty much the rest of it you know."

"We do not know your name." Worf said.

"Oh, yes." The woman's eyes actually twinkled, "I saved the best for last. I'm a telepath, you see. I know just what my name will mean to each and every one of you." Data started to protest but she forestalled him. "Yes, even you, Data. I may be the only person in existence who can read the mental emanations of an android, but even you think, Data." She turned back to Worf. "My name is Kestra[10] and you're going to love this next part. You see you are my stepfather. You're married to my mother, Lwaxanna[11] Troi."

"Ambassador Troi? But that's..." Worf tried to think of an adjective that was adequate.

"Disgusting? Revolting? Horrifying?"

"Yes." Worf let out a breath.

The woman laughed delightedly, "Yes, isn't it just."

* * *

[1] For someone who was originally killed by a tar baby, Tasha Yar, played by Denise Crosby, gets around.

[2] Worf challenged the incumbent head of the Klingon Empire _Reunion_

[3] In the normal Star Trek universe Captain Picard who had been made into a Borg, Locutus, was rescued by the Enterprise. _Best of Both Worlds_

[4] This was recounted in the episode, _Chain of Command_

[5] In, of course, the episode, _Borg._

[6] Alien race first seen in STNG The Wounded

[7] This is actually the Enterprise from Mirror Mirror, where Kirk and crew crossed dimensions.

[8] Discovered by the _Enterprise_ in our universe, in the episode _The Last Outpost._ Kestra's universe didn't meet up with the Ferengi until the USS Potemkin found them in 2370 (Star Date 45596)

[9] A Bat'leth is the traditional Klingon sword. It is made of metal and wood, curved like a bow and with the blade on the inside of the curve. It is held with two hands in the handles along the curve.

[10] Kestra, the older sister of Deanna Troi, was killed in a swimming accident in the episode _Dark Page _Lwaxanna Troi found it hard to come to terms with the death, so never mentioned Kestra's existence to Deanna.

[11] Lwaxanna Troi is Deanna Troi's mother and a full Betazoid.


	2. Chapter 2

Deanna touched her lips where Worf had kissed her good-bye. It was over. Her "tall, dark and ugly" was gone forever. The passion and beauty of the last three years crowded around her heart and made it ache. She took a deep breath and then another, and looked out the screen at the large empty space that mimicked her feelings. It had been so full just moments before, and now it was so very empty.

"Plot a course for Star Base 129, Mr. Arex[1]."

"Aye, Captain." After a moment, "Course laid in."

"Engage."

The routine closed around her and she was able to continue, somehow.

Riker looked up to see her looking lost. Standing, he gave the Picard tug to his shirt, "Lt. Crusher[2], conduct a level 2 search of the ship. Our Commander Worf may still be aboard," he said; then he headed off the bridge. "Counselor, I'd like to see you in my office."

Once the door closed behind them, he showed Deanna to a seat on the couch and then sat down next to her. "I'm sorry, Counselor, I don't think the search is going to turn up anything."

"I know." Deanna looked at her hands to keep from seeing the pity in Riker's eyes.

"Have you given any thought on what you'll do now?"

He was trying to be kind; she could feel that. The problem was, in a situation like this there was no kindness. There had never been a situation like this before. "I'll need to tell the children. I suppose Shannara won't understand, but Eric Christopher[3] might. He is very bright."

"It isn't necessarily true that Worf is dead, you know. He could be in a quantum universe other than ours."

"It is a difference that makes no difference, Will." Deanna finally looked at her Captain and friend. He was having a hard time with this too. Worf and he, enough alike that she loved them both, had become good friends since their marriage. "We can have a memorial service. It will provide closure for those who knew him."

Riker seemed relieved. "Ever the counselor, hey Deanna?"

Troi smiled. "I suppose so."

Just then the com. badge beeped. The captain tapped it, "Riker here."

"We've located an intruder in cargo hold three. It's not Commander Worf, sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Crusher. Does he seem hostile?"

"Negative, Captain. Ensign Michaels says the man refuses to answer any questions but he's peaceable enough."

"Then bring him to my ready room. We'll meet you there." Tapping his com. badge again he said, "Dr. Crusher, Mr. Data, Mr. O'Brien, to the ready room."

Deanna stood to leave but Will forestalled her, "I'd like you there as well, Counselor." Together they left for the meeting.

Will Riker was not at all prepared for who he would be meeting. Had he any imagination, he thought later, he could have guessed. But he didn't guess, so when the door opened on Captain Jean Luc Picard he nearly fell off his chair.

Picard was dressed in civilian clothes and came into the room storming, "What is the meaning of this outrage? My samples are missing! The only intact Talosian[4] third dynasty vase in existence is smashed because you're playing fast and loose with the phasers, and now I'm under arrest? Will, just what is going on here?"

"You're not under arrest, Captain."

"Captain?" Jean Luc headed for a seat, "Are you feeling OK, Will?"

"I'm fine," Riker managed a weak smile, "But you've got a big surprise coming."

It took a while to get things straightened out, but eventually the stories were told. Picard, ever the pragmatist, accepted the circumstances readily. He listened intently as the history of the Enterprise was told—a history where he died and was mourned by the people sitting at this table.

"In my universe, my time spent with the Ketan[5] convinced me that I had had enough exploration of space and that I was ready to explore time. I relinquished command to you, Will, and went back for my degree in archeology. My prior dabbling in the field has helped me get established fairly quickly. The Federation Archeological Institute on Andor[6] requested I give a talk on my latest discoveries so I was hitching a ride with you to Star Base 129 when the problem with the telescope array came up."

"Where did we collect you, if you don't mind my askin'." O'Brien asked.

"I hitched a ride from my digs on Dorvan Five[7] with Worf. We rendezvoused with you on the shuttle Curie[8]."

"Captain," Data put in, "I believe I have a working theory as to why we have acquired Mr. Picard."

"Go ahead."

"According to Newtonian Physics, matter cannot be created or destroyed in the universe. By extrapolating that theorem into quantum physics, each quantum reality must maintain it's own level of matter and energy. Commander Worf has not returned to our universe, therefore his matter must be replaced. Mr. Picard is our replacement."

"No!" The negative from Deanna was soft but intense and it caught the notice of everyone in the room. "I cannot believe my husband has been replaced by this. I will not believe it!" Trembling, she got up and left the room.

Deanna knew she was being unreasonable even as she sped down the corridor. It wasn't Picard's fault that he was the one that landed in this universe. It was no one's fault. It was merely painful.

She started for her room, but realized that everything in there reminded her of Worf. She couldn't quite face that yet. Her children needed to know. It was better to start there. She had every intention of heading for the nursery when she found her feet going in the direction of 10Forward.

It wasn't until she had walked through the double wooden doors that she realized why. At this point she didn't really know what to tell the kids. The truth would only confuse them. If daddy wasn't dead, why couldn't they see him? Why couldn't they visit him? She couldn't lie to them either. There didn't seem to be a middle ground.

"You can travel in that direction until you die and you won't get to the bar." Troi jumped at Guinan's voice.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"The bar." Guinan smiled, "It's behind you about 10 paces."

Troi smiled back and retraced her steps to the bar.

"That's better." Guinan said with satisfaction, slipping behind the bar and reaching for a sundae dish. "Now, what seems to be the trouble."

"It's Worf."

Guinan frowned in concentration, "Big fella, right? A badly ironed forehead with attitude?" She set down the dish and leaned on the bar. "Sure, I know him."

It barely elicited a smile, so Guinan changed her tactic. Picking up the sundae dish again she reached for the ice cream scoop. "Is this going to be a double chocolate binge or a hot fudge with brownie on the side binge?"

"I don't think I'll have anything just now, Guinan, just a glass of water."

"Uh oh."

"I just wanted to..." Deanna swallowed and tried again, "I don't think I could face the empty rooms just now."

"Slow down, girl." Guinan quickly moved from behind the bar and guided Troi to a table. "You forget that the trenches don't often get the full story. Is something the matter with Worf?"

"He didn't belong in our universe, so they sent him home. But my Worf didn't come back. We got a watered down version of Picard instead."

"And now you don't want to go home."

"I feel I should mourn him but he isn't dead."

"Who said so?"

"What do you mean?" Deanna looked up at Guinan suspiciously.

"Who told you he was alive?"

"No one."

"Will he be coming back?"

"No."

"Can you visit him?"

"No."

"Can anyone anywhere in this entire universe see him?"

"Guinan, please come to the point."

"If it looks like a duck, and walks like a duck, and sounds like a duck. Call it a duck and get on with your life."

"Isn't that just a bit callous?"

"If one of your patients came to you and said that they weren't going to believe their loved one was gone because there wasn't any body to mourn, what would you do?"

"I...would..." Deanna drew out the words as she thought about what Guinan was really asking. Finally, she nodded and stood up, "I would go get my children and tell them how much we're all going to miss daddy and how much we love him."

"That's my girl." Guinan said to her retreating form.

* * *

[1] Mr Arex is a six limbed alien from the planet Edos, first shown in the Star Trek cartoon series. He sat at the navigation console.

[2] Lt. Crusher is actually Wesley Crusher, Dr. Beverly Crusher's son.

[3] The children's names come from a comment made by Troy to Katherine Pulaski just before the birth of her son, Ian. Episode: STTNG: The Child

[4] Talosians are an advanced species from Talos 4. Their original appearance was in the first pilot for STTOS: The Child

[5] Ketan is the planet of origin of the artifact which made Captain Picard live a lifetime in about 45 minutes.

[6] Andor is the planet of origin of the blue Andorian race first seen in _Journey to Babel._

[7] Colonized by Federation citizens but disputed by Cardassians in Journey's End

[8] The very shuttle that Warf of the current universe used to attend the Bat'leth tourney.


	3. Chapter 3

"Well, Data?" Kestra twisted around to look at the android, "You're the only one left. What deep dark secrets have turned you into a Klingon?"

"I am not a Klingon, I am an android. As such, it is quite simple to change my looks."

"Oh, sure," Kestra grinned, "Just paint you brown and staple a latex forehead on, and voilá! Instant Klingon."

"That is essentially correct." Data didn't seem at all perturbed. "However, before we continue it may be appropriate here to decide on a destination."

"Simple." Tasha spoke. "We head for the Enterprise."

"The Enterprise is not within scanning range." Worf said after a short pause.

"Impossible!" Tasha turned in her seat and began peering out the window, as if her eyesight was better than the scanners.

"On the contrary, Mr. Yar" Data said in the pedantic voice he used when assuming the role of Sherlock Holms, "The event that put us here was three days, 11 hours and 53 minutes ago according to my internal chronometer."

"Good heavens!" Kestra whispered.

"I believe the Heisenberg principle is at work here." Data continued. "There was no certainty that we would remain stable in our universe. It is fortunate that we have moved so little in space-time."

"There is no answer to my hail." Worf put in.

"Well, that tears it. We'll have to get to a subspace transmitter." Tasha started to run the systems check that would get them going.

"We can head back to Dorvan Five and contact the Enterprise from there."

"That is quite distant. The telescope array is only four hours at our cruising speed." Worf looked down at the panel before him. "Dorvan Five will take 20 hours at the same speed."

"The array doesn't have the facilities that a planet would." Tasha said.

"But its transmitter has a longer range than Dorvan Five". Worf squirmed in his chair. He really did not want to face what may be at the scene of the Bat'leth tournament. Not yet, anyway.

"And we can always head back to where I left mother if this doesn't work." Kestra said, looking innocently—and pointedly—at the Klingon.

The array was no longer operational when they reached it. Worf had been worried about that. Several of the universes he had been in had shown the telescope being destroyed. This appeared to be one of them.

"Maybe the transmitter is still working." Kestra suggested.

"Even if it were in perfect condition we still couldn't use it. The environmental controls aren't functioning," Tasha said as she played the console in front of her. "There's nothing to breath down there but space."

"And a Starfleet Class 6 shuttle does not carry E.V.A. suits as normal compliment," Worf added.

"Well, Data, you have just been volunteered to make the call[1]." Kestra said, clapping him on the back.

Worf was none too happy about it. During the short trip over, there hadn't been opportunity to turn the conversation back to the android's quantum reality. Neither of the others seemed concerned with that but Worf was not one to trust easily. Until he knew Data's story and could decide for himself, he would reserve judgment. This, however, was not a time for choice. There was no one else who could survive in vacuum beyond the three-second limit. Besides, without atmosphere the message would have to be sent by hand and Data was one hell of a keyboarder.

They transported Data to the area of the telescope array that they felt was the most probable location of the transmitter. None of the shuttle crew was familiar with this array, although Kestra admitted her specialty would not have given her cause to study it. A worrisome thought that. It lent credence to the idea that this might be Kestra's universe. Worf was not pleased.

"He has been down there too long."

"Relax, Worf, he has to locate the transmitter and power it up before he can send the message." Tasha said the words, but he could see she was worried too. Shortly after beaming him down they found that the various com. badges they wore were incompatible. Without the backing of the main ship, there was nothing they could do short of beaming him back. This they were loath to do. The power expenditure would be too great to make another go at the array. They would have to head for the planet.

"If you can hold out just a little longer," Kestra said from where she sat cross-legged on the couch, her head tipped back and her eyes closed, "He thinks he has found the right panel, but its configuration is somewhat different than he's used to."

Tasha's head snapped around to look at the Betazoid. "That's right! You can read Data's mind!"

Kestra grunted, but didn't look up. "Just barely. An android mental configuration is very different from an organic one."

"Can you send to him as well?"

"On a good day, yes."

"Is this a good day?" Worf would feel a whole lot more comfortable if they could keep in touch with this wild card android.

Kestra lifted her head and frowned at the other two officers. "Look, this is not easy. As good as I am, I still find it hard to hold two conversations at once."

"Sorry." Both of the others said in unison.

The pretty Betazoid harrumphed. She did something with her face that looked like she was looking inward, and then she screamed, "Attack! " Before either other officer could react, she was on her feet and lunging for the controls. When Worf's first response was to block her she added, "The Bajorans, they're going to attack."

"We do not know this universe's frame of reference." Worf continued to block her, but started scanning for the ship. "These Bajorans may be peaceful."

"Strange thought coming from you, Worf." Tasha said as she marshaled what little defenses a class 6 shuttle had.

"They're not peaceful, Commander," Kestra shouted as she struggled with the Klingon for access to the controls, "They're not peaceful, damn it! I'm a telepath!" But the boom of a direct phaser hit drowned her last words out.

"Get to your seat." Worf shouted back at her. "Contact Data. Tell him what's happening."

Another phaser hit rocked the little ship. Kestra went tumbling, striking her head on the back wall. Worf had no time to even wonder weather she'd been able to contact the android. A tractor beam shot out from the larger ship and caught the shuttle in its grasp. The ship inexorably pulled them into its hold.

* * *

[1] Data himself has said that although he does breath to regulate internal temperature, he can "work in an absence of atmosphere for extended periods of time." episode: _Birthright Part I_


	4. Chapter 4

"Have you finished the communicae to Geordie's family?" Deanna slipped into the seat next to Riker. 10Forward was slow right now. Most of the people aboard were asleep or on duty. Circadian rhythms[1] were different, though, so here and there were scattered a random assortment of people—aliens mostly.

"Yeah. They want the body left in stasis until we can send it back to them."

Deanna whistled softly. Stasis was not cheap. Most grieving families elected to have their loved ones frozen. It was an efficient means of storage for a people who lived among the stars.

"And you, Imzadi[2]?" Riker took her hand in his, "Have you told the Rozhenkos[3]?"

_Imzadi_. She hadn't heard that word in a long time. "I called them this morning with the news. They would like to visit the Enterprise with your permission, Will."

"Permission granted. How are you holding up?"

"I miss him terribly." For a moment, grief washed over her. Knowing about the grieving process didn't seem to make it any easier to get through. She cast about for something else to talk about. "Where is Jean Luc?"

"Captain, ...I mean Mr. Picard is resting in the guest quarters on deck 5. We're going to have to come to a decision about him."

"What does he want to do?"

"He wants to get back to his dig." Riker raised his hand to forestall the objection he saw on Deanna's face. "No, he doesn't think he has a dig in this universe. He's as up in the air as I am."

"You?" For the first time since they sat down, Deanna opened her mind to Riker's emotions. She was surprised at what she felt. Riker was having serious problems with having Picard aboard.

"His archeology degree never happened here. He hasn't got a dig to go back to. He's aboard his old command. We both know what this is going to do to the crew."

"What do you think it will do to the crew?"

"When Captain Picard died, I stepped into his shoes. A lot of people are going to still think of me as the substitute Captain. Even Jean Luc will wonder why I didn't rescue his double."

The underlying emotion was one of guilt and sorrow. Troi suspected that Will was reevaluating his decisions. "You're wrong, Captain. The crew belongs to you. Those that knew Captain Picard will realize that this is not he, just as I recognized that Thomas Riker[4] was not you."

"I respect your opinion, Councilor, but Picard is at a decision point in his life. If he decided to set his cap for the Enterprise again, would I be able to stop him? Would I really want to? I'm just not sure of the answer right now."

"This is a topic you need to discuss with Mr. Picard, Captain."

"I will. I just need to think about it a little more."

Deanna knew Will. It would be impossible to get him to talk to Jean Luc before he had made a stand on this issue. She sighed and turned the conversation to other things.

Later, she visited Picard on her own. As Ship's Counselor, she would want to make sure he was not too damaged by his walk in a different reality. She needn't have worried.

"Counselor! Do come in. I've been meaning to talk to you." Picard, dressed in jodhpurs and gray blouse, looked comfortable and relaxed.

"I see you've gotten settled." Deanna was having trouble figuring out what to call him. "Captain" was no longer appropriate; "Mr. Picard" was much too formal; but "Jean Luc" seemed too intimate, somehow, for this occasion. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"Thank you, Counselor, I believe I'm quite well taken care of. Please, sit down." He motioned her to a seat, and then took one himself. "I had hoped you would stop by. My performance in the ready room must have seemed rather callous to you. I assure you I intended no such thing."

"No..." again the difficulty with what to call him, "No, you were unaware of the situation. I should not have reacted that way. …I'm sorry. Um…"

Picard just looked at her for a moment and she could sense that he was finding something humorous. "When I became a _professor_ of archeology at the Federation Historical Institute on Andor III, I'd thought to keep in close contact with the Enterprise. In some ways she was still my ship. I didn't realize how out of touch I'd become."

"It helps to have changed universes, Professor." Troi said with a wry grin.

Picard laughed, "I suppose so."

"If I may say so, Professor, you seem in an uncommonly good mood."

"Indeed I am. This universe has several changes I've found to my liking."

"Such as?"

"Such as Will Riker got command of the Enterprise."

"Surely Will must have made Captain some time after you left Star Fleet?"

"Will made Captain when I left the Enterprise. That was no surprise, but he took a desk job on Earth. He said he didn't want to try to fill my shoes on the flag ship of the fleet; the competition was too high.

"I called him last month and convinced him he needed a vacation. The Enterprise was going to be our rendezvous point. From there we planned on visiting Utopia Planetia. Will said he 'knew a few welders who would like to show us their etchings.' That's a direct quote."

They both laughed.

The door chime sounded just then, and with an apologetic nod Picard rose to get it. The door slid back to show Data, package in hand. Deanna got up and headed for the door. "I have some things to attend to. Perhaps I will see you this evening in 10Forward? Data's classical trio[5] has challenged the Captain's jazz quartet[6] to a contest."

"Thank you, Deanna, I wouldn't miss it."

"One more thing, Professor," Troi slid past Data, then turned, "I really think you should speak to Will about your aspirations. This has been quite a shock to him."

Understanding lit up Picard's eyes. "I will do that, Counselor."

As the door slid closed on Troi, Data asked, "Did I come at an inopportune time?"

"No Data, that's quite all right. The counselor and I were just getting used to one another again."

Together and in silence they went to the living area and sat. "I do not know the protocol for visiting someone who has returned from another universe." Data said, "Does it include the offering of a gift?" He held out the package.

Picard laughed. "Thank you, Data, you have just established a new protocol." He opened the package and pulled out the contents. It was a golden replica of the Enterprise in battle with a Ferengi starship. They whirled around each other silently while red and yellow flashes of light showed hits to the ships. "It's quite compelling." Picard said after a moment or two of watching the scene. "But I don't recognize the second ship. Who are we fighting?"

"That is a Ferengi D'Kora[7] class marauder."

"I shall put it in a place of honor."

* * *

[1] Circadian rhythms are physical, mental and behavioral changes that follow a roughly 24-hour cycle. _from: National Institute of General Medical Sciences_

[2] Imzadi - although no accurate translation can be made, it has been loosely compared to "first love" or "cherished friend"

[3] Warf's foster parents.

[4] Thomas Riker was a virtual duplicate of William T. Riker created by a transporter accident on Nervala IV.. Seen in the episode: _The Royale_

[5] The classical group played for Ambassador Sarek during his time on the enterprise. STTNG: Sarek

[6] Riker's jazz quartet has played several times onboard the Enterprise, most notably on the holodeck.

[7] TNG: "The Last Outpost", "The Price"


	5. Chapter 5

For the second time in under a day Worf pulled himself back to consciousness. This time he wasn't at all surprised. It didn't matter how many wrinkles you had on your face, if you were bad guy enough to knock someone out without touching them-say, with subsonics-you were bad guy enough to have no imagination in locking them up. He strained against the presser field just long enough to make sure his companions were all right and to test the strength of his bonds. Tasha and Kestra were still comatose but otherwise not obviously harmed, and they were both in the room with him. That was an unexpected bonus.

The room was standard issue brig. There wasn't enough variation in it to place the ship class or species, though he didn't doubt Kestra when she said that there were Bajorans aboard. He just didn't believe that that was the whole story. In his universe, Bajor was under Cardassian rule. As if to prove him wrong, a Bajoran came in just then to check on the prisoners.

"Well, well. By the prophets you people are easy to pluck!" He moved from one to another of the prisoners, checking each in turn. Lifting the chin of one of the insensate women, he commented, "With surgery these two could be rather beautiful.

"And you, Klingon," the man said, squatting in front of Worf, "You'll do fine for heavy labor."

Worf tried to bite him.

"Come, now. You didn't expect that to work, did you?"

"Why have you detained us?"

Instead of answering, the Bajoran activated his com-link and spoke, "He was the first to awaken, as you surmised. As soon as the shuttle is stowed, we can go to warp."

Pulling a whip that looked suspiciously like Ferengi-issue from his belt, the Bajoran gestured toward the women. "Are these your mates?"

"We are Federation citizens. You cannot detain us." Of course Worf knew no such thing. In this particular continuum it could indeed be allowed to detain citizens of a federation that may or may not exist. But until he found out otherwise, he would treat the situation as if it were valid for his particular reality.

"What were you doing near the array?" The Bajoran made the whip snake out toward Worf without letting it snap and release the blue energy bolt. The tip swung into the presser field causing little rivulets of energy to cascade through the field. It felt, to Worf, as if his skin were crawling with stinger beetles.

"Array?"

The Bajoran laughed and again the whip came out to caress the presser field. "Where is your main ship now?"

"Ship?"

"How soon will the ship be back to collect you?" and the whip did the dance again.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Worf had to speak through clenched teeth as a thousand places on his body erupted in sharp pain. The Bajoran had turned the whip on that time.

"You Klingons aren't nearly as savage as your reputation indicates, are you? Well, no matter. I'm not here for information anyway. My little toy just makes you easier to handle." The Bajoran pressed a stud on his belt and the presser field eased. Worf could now move about as if in treacle.

"By all means, lead the way." Worf said without humor, standing his ground.

"Now, now." His captor wagged his whip and Worf relented. With effort he walked to the door followed closely by the whip bearing Bajoran.

It was a surprise to see who occupied the command chair on the Bajoran's ship. Worf recognized the youthful figure sitting at the head of the briefing table. He'd met her before, at Deep Space Nine. He struggled to recall her name. "Major Kira?"

"It's Captain Kira, actually. And how do you know me, Klingon?" the woman gestured to a free chair the length of the table away from her. Arranged around the table between them were two Ferengi and another Bajoran. She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. "I must say, I really hadn't expected to locate salvage out here. Well," she chuckled, "except for the array itself, of course."

Worf simply glared at her.

"Come, come, Commander. I'm not going to bite you. ...Well," Kira grinned and the rest at the table followed suit. "At least not yet. I'd just like to know who you are and why you're out here in the middle of nowhere. That's not too much to ask now is it?"

"We have no quarrel with you," Worf said, "We were simply near when the Cardassians damaged the Argus array."

"The Cardassians?" Kira looked puzzled. "Why would you think that the Cardassians would have hurt the array? They're your allies."

"The weapons signature was Cardassian." Worf muttered, thinking that maybe he shouldn't say anything else until he found out more about this universe.

"Yes, I'm sure it was," Kira replied, smiling enigmatically. "But you still haven't told me your name."

Worf said nothing. After a moment he heard the whine of a weapon powering up as the Bajoran that had brought him switched on the Ferengi whip. Worf weighed his options. It would be easier to escape if he was alive and uninjured, so he said quietly, "Worf."

"The first officer of the Enterprise?" One of the Ferengi asked. Kira's eyes flashed and an appraising look appeared on her face. "This has turned out to be far more profitable than I had anticipated. Neran, bring him to the bridge." She stood and strode out, followed by her crew.

The Bajoran who had brought Worf to the briefing room appeared at his side. "Stand, Klingon," he growled.


	6. Chapter 6

The control room of the array was dark but Data didn't mind. His vision was not as limited as human's, although that was a talent he tended to downplay. He could see a little by intensifying the light coming from the stars. The cold was quite another matter. Several of his systems relied on keeping his internal temperature over 2 degrees centigrade. If he couldn't get the power to life-support going within an hour, he would die as surely as if he were human. Data flipped the tricorder open and began scanning for damage. The good news was: the weapons that had hit the telescope array were not aiming for life support. The bad news was: they were aiming for the communications grid. It didn't look promising. Better to fix the life support and get the assistance of the other three shuttle refugees. Doggedly he set to work.

While taking off the service panel, he heard Kestra contact him.

_Data, how does it look? Can we fix it?_

Startled, Data dropped the panel. Before he could formulate an answer stark terror filled his mind.

_The Bajorans! They're attacking!_ After a pause of scant seconds he heard, _Data! They've got us._ Then there was silence.

With no ears or eyes to the outside world, Data found himself running through all the schematics he had of this type of station on the hope that he could locate a way to help. It was a useless exercise, and he knew it. Shaking his head, he tried to concentrate on the array and forget about what was happening outside. It could have been worse. The damage could have caused a cascade effect in the 9 reactor cores. That would have effectively made the array look a lot like confetti. As it was, seven of the nine cores were shut down. Coupling the last two would either give him life support or sensors along with communication. It wouldn't give him both. It was no contest. It took 47 minutes and spare parts from half the downed telescopes to get life support working, another hour and 24 minutes and parts from the rest to set up a subspace distress beacon. Try as he might, there just weren't enough usable parts to fix the communications grid completely. All he was able to do was send out an SOS.

Two hours later it was answered.

"I'm scanning the array but there are no life signs, Captain." Wesley let his fingers dance over the panel, "Grid number thirteen does have life support."

"Are you sure, Lieutenant?" Riker said from his usual stance near the captain chair. "When we were here yesterday there was no life support."

After a moment Crusher answered, "Sure, Captain. Parts of the array have been altered since yesterday."

"Open a hailing frequency, Mr. Crusher. Broadband. Let's see if our gremlins will come out and play." Captain Riker thought for a moment, then said, "This is Captain William Riker of the Starship Enterprise. Do you need assistance?"

Wesley looked up, "The SOS has ceased."

"I have detected movement on the array, Captain." This from ops.

"Good work, Ensign Eriks. Mr. Data prepare an away team. Lets find out what life form our scanners miss."

Even before the transporter's effect ceased, Data was scanning the area. With him was security's Lieutenant Ro and Dr. Beltrain from medical. The illumination was minimal and both Ro and Beltrain were going to be dependent on hand lights. As the transporter released them the others began moving out in various directions. They hadn't seen the object that caught Data's attention.

Standing in the shadows as if stored there was a Klingon dressed in Starfleet issue. Quickly it moved into the light. The likeness was uncanny. Forehead and coloration aside, this form could have been his! And there were very few beings who could pull that off.

"Hello, Lore." Data said, drawing his phaser.

"I am not Lore." The Klingon android said, "I am Data."

"Since I am Data, that is clearly incorrect." The others, hearing the exchange, had taken up position surrounding the Klingon. Data tapped his com badge. "We have located your 'gremlin,' Captain. It appears to be Lore in Klingon disguise. He claims to be me."

"Bring him up, Data." Came the reply, "We'll sort this out in the main conference room in 15 minutes."

"I think you should start with how you got on the telescope array." Riker said when the command staff and the Klingon android had finally assembled in the conference lounge.

"I and my companions were stranded in a shuttle when the rip in quantum reality was fixed. We managed to make it to the Argus array where I beamed aboard and sent the subspace SOS."

"Companions?" Lieutenant Ro asked. "There was no one else picked up in the vicinity."

"They were subsequently captured by Bajorans."

"Who were these companions of yours?" Dr. Crusher asked.

"Three others who were caught in the quantum rift. They each come from a different reality than this."

"If this were Lore," Deanna said from her seat next to Riker. "How could he have gotten access to the information about the quantum realities?"

"I could have reviewed the taped log from the array; I could have had us under surveillance; I could have intercepted our communiqué to Star Fleet..."

"That's enough, Data." Riker raised his hand to forestall more of the list. "Until we can verify that you are not Lore, we will work under the assumption that you are."

"Guilty until proven innocent, Captain?" Dr. Crusher's quiet statement made Riker squirm inside, "I see no alternative. Perhaps you'd like to tell us how you managed to become Klingon, Data."

The non-Klingon Data opened his mouth then closed it again. It was disconcerting even to him to hear someone else called by his name.

"Five years ago I participated in an officer exchange program. I was assigned to a Klingon ship. I first adopted this guise to make them feel more comfortable."

"Can you give us the name of that vessel?" Lieutenant Crusher asked.

"It was the Pagh." Data turned momentarily toward Wesley then looked back at Riker. "When Jeremy Aster had difficulty in the grieving process after the death of his mother he imitated my android manner. To assist him in coming to terms with his new life, I again adopted a Klingon persona. I seem to be more acceptable to ship personnel as an authority figure this way so I have maintained the Klingon aspect."

"You sound like you're trying out a new hair style."

"That is essentially correct, Dr. Crusher."

"If you are from an alternate reality as you claim," the Data of the Enterprise doggedly steered the interview back on track, "your quantum signature should differ from ours."

"Dr. Crusher, if you will do the honors?" Will Riker gestured to the android. Standing and moving around the human like android, Crusher took out her scanner and began passing is over the new Data. After a moment she frowned but she continued for several minutes before turning to the group. "Quantum signatures match. I checked it several times. There can be no mistake."


	7. Chapter 7

Tasha woke gradually. It wasn't until she tried to move that she felt the presser field holding her fast. It took turning her head slowly and painfully before she saw Kestra, eyes closed. Beyond the Betazoid was empty. Worf hadn't been put with them… or, Tasha thought grimly he hadn't made it at all. Lying in a field of 5Gs or better was painful enough, but the tingling in her arms and legs meant some sort of subsonics had been used on her in the recent past. She could have been unconscious for hours. It was impossible to tell.

At least the Betazoid next to her didn't seem in distress. She was breathing deeply and regularly and showing no obvious wounds. "Kestra?" The presser field made it hard to speak above a whisper.

Kestra's eyes snapped open. "I've lost him!"

"What?"

"Data. I've lost contact with him." Kestra strained to turn her head toward Tasha.

"Just stay still. We're in presser fields. You can hurt yourself if you try to move too much. We've probably been under for hours. Data could be light years away by now."

"Oh, don't worry I have no intentions of moving again." Kestra closed her eyes. Minutes passed in silence until she smiled and said, "I've found Worf."

_Worf!_ The Klingon looked around to see if anyone else had heard Kestra's voice. The only one looking at him was Neran, his whip ready to stop the Klingon if he tried anything. Kira paced the middle of the bridge, occasionally throwing Worf a glare or two.

_You are awake?_ Warf tried to look aware of his present surroundings. It would have been easier if he could vocalize—obviously not an option.

_Yes. So is Tasha. Where are we?_

_We are aboard a Bajoran vessel._

_Bajorans? Where are they taking us?_

_I do not know._

_Where are you?_

_On the bridge._

_The bridge?! We're down here stuck in these stupid presser fields and you're lounging around on the bridge? _

Worf took a deep breath. His alter ego must have a lot of patience. _ I am not here by choice._

_That makes me feel **much** better. _ Warf could even hear the sarcasm.

Before he could think a reply, a crewman at the back of the bridge spoke, "High command has responded to our hail, Captain."

"It's about time. On screen," Kira said. She stopped pacing and turned to face forward. The screen flickered for a moment, and then resolved to show the face of an older Bajoran woman. Kira's expression hardened into a mask of cautious hostility.

"Vedic Winn, I did not expect to see you," Kira said with forced courtesy.

"I should think not, child," Winn replied gently. "I have just recently been assigned as the Vedic Assembly's representative in dealing with the Federation. I understand you have some Federation personnel on board."

"Yes, three of them. They were trying to repair the array."

"How do you know this, child?"

"The transporter logs on their shuttle showed that someone had used it recently, although there were no life signs on the array."

""…And is the Klingon beside you one of them?" Warf could see that the Vedic was getting tired of terse, uninformative answers to her questions.

"Yes."

"We are happy to have been able to rescue you, Mr…?"

"Since my companions are under presser fields in the brig, I would hardly call this a rescue."

Winn simpered, "I am sure it is simply a precaution until we could speak with you. You understand." That was definitely not a question. The woman moved closer to the screen and peered at Worf. "Do I know you?"

Intent on keeping his identity secret for as long as possible, Worf replied, "I doubt it."

"A name, Klingon!" Winn curled her lip in a sneer.

The finesse lay in telling them something they wouldn't recognize but the Enterprise people would. How could he do that when he didn't know the universe he was in?

"Neran?" Kira gestured to the man with the whip.

"Arex!"[1] Worf finally grasped at the only male name on his mind. "I'm William Arex."

"That is a Human name, Klingon. Do you take us for fools?" The Vedic again sneered.

"I was adopted. It is the name my human parents gave me." As both Vedic Winn and Kyra Nerise narrowed their eyes, Worf knew just how weak the story was. Using his shipmate's first name was a risk that he now realized was foolish.

The Vedic lowered her head in thought. After a time that put worry in Worf's head, she raised her eyes and said, "Bring the refugees to Terok Nor."

"Vedic, my orders are to…" Kira was clearly displeased.

"My orders take priority in this matter," Winn interrupted. "May the Prophets guide your path, child. Winn out."

"I'm no child." Kira grumbled. "Helm, lay in a course for Terok Nor, warp 7. Take the Klingon back to the brig.

"So let me get this straight, Major Kira is the captain of this Bajoran vessel. The Bajorans are hostile to the Federation. They're taking us to Deep Space Nine because some Vedic told them to. Only Deep Space Nine is now called Terok Nor. We're trapped in these presser fields until we get there and you're named Willy Arex. Do I have it right?" Kestra had not stopped talking since Worf had been brought back to the room. Beyond her, Tasha seemed to be sleeping.

"For the sixth time, yes." The Klingon was thoroughly annoyed with the Betazoid woman. "Why do you keep repeating that?"

"I have to get it straight if I am to understand it properly. Besides, it annoys you." Kestra said with a grin. "Okay, Now Kira is capt…"

"Enough!" bellowed Worf. Kestra snickered.

"I assume you also did it to get the guard to leave." Tasha finally showed she wasn't asleep.

"Ah!" Kestra squirmed beneath the presser field, "You caught on, did you? I'm having no luck breaking free, though."

"A Klingon's body is conditioned to handle higher G forces. I believe I can reach the field controls with minimal difficulty."

"Right." Kestra no longer had the playful tone in her voice. "I can read minds, remember? You don't need to coddle us. We are both officers on board the pride of the fleet. Say what you really think."

Worf sighed, "If my calculation is correct, the force keeping me down is greater than I have sustained without damage. However, I cannot see a workable alternative."

"Nor can I." Yar sounded defeated.

Without any more discussion, Warf began struggling against the force holding him down. At first he tried pure force, getting up as he normally would. Of course it failed. As he rested between attempts, he heard Tasha clear her throat.

"If you must," he said.

"In Ishiro my sensei suggested we treat alternate force fields as if they were added weight on our body. How much extra weight do you predict you are dealing with?" Tasha tried to ask it gently, but it was hard talking to a Klingon.

"I've never heard of Ishiro."

"That's painfully obvious. Look, don't be so entrenched that you won't take advice."

"I would weigh 567 kgm more."

Kestra grunted as if she'd been hit in the solar plexus.

"No! No!" Tasha squirmed in her force field. "It can be done! A Human has stood and walked five steps with that much weight. A Klingon could definitely do more!"

"Have you seen it done?" Worf's base voice held a hint of doubt.

"I have." Tasha laughed in excitement. "I can talk you through it."

"Begin."

"Roll onto your stomach. There is no way your stomach muscles are strong enough to lift that kind of weight without a great deal more training. Your arms and legs are used to doing more work than just dealing with your body. Use them."

Worf dutifully rolled over.

"Wait." Kestra sounded tired. "If you can roll, why don't you just roll out of the field?"

"The fields are not constructed to allow prisoners to escape." Warf sounded out of breath just from rolling over. "They follow the center of gravity of the prisoner."

Kestra said, "Oh. Then…" but Tasha talked over the top of her. "Now that you're on your stomach, lift with your arms and push back until you are sitting on your legs."

It took Worf a few tries to get there, but eventually he was sitting on his legs, his hands resting on his knees. Continuing to follow Yar's instruction, he eased his body onto hands and knees, and then into a genuflection—one knee up, the other on the floor. The last motion had to be done quickly. Placing his arms on the leg that was in the up position, he pushed off that, into a standing position. For a moment he paused there, swaying. The force was immense now that it was positioned in a single balance point running through his body from head to foot. His goal was in sight, seven, maybe eight steps away.

"One more thing, Worf," Tasha said. "Move as if you are balancing a large weight on your head. Keep your center of gravity as close to the center of your body as possible. Too much angle and you will fall like a tight rope walker."

"A tight rope walker?" Worf asked while still balanced where he had stood up.

"Never mind." Tasha grimaced. It was hard talking to a Klingon. There was just no frame of reference. "Just be careful."

Worf began to walk. His back was straight, his knees slightly bent. One step; two. They all could see his knees were shaking.

"Try to walk without bending your knees."

"That will throw my balance off."

"But if you don't, your knees will buckle." Yar sounded irritated, but Worf suspected she was just concerned. She had been right so far. He'd have to look into this Ishiro next time he…" He didn't let the thought finish, instead he took a goose-step forward. It was like rocking a hexagon and it gave a bit of a push to his next step.

"Step toe-heel." This time it was Kestra with the advice. "The difference should help you avoid the forward force. If that builds up you'll go right through that wall."

Warf's hips had begun to ache and his interesting spinal setup was beginning to make itself known as well. He took another step, toe to heel. It did help with the forward control. The steps had been short. At this rate he had five more to go. He focused on the switch. Another step. He found himself out of breath but he didn't dare stop. One more step. The pain in his spine was intensifying at its base and now he could feel the muscles on the front of his thighs begin to burn. A step. His breath was coming in gasps. Both spines were on fire and the pain had spread to his hips. A twinge came from his ankles. He wondered how he managed to notice it with all the rest of the pain. Yet again a step. The pain was getting unbearable. Now even his shoulders, which had tensed up with the beginning of the ordeal, were starting to hurt.

He leaned over and hit the wall with a bit of force, but he could click the switch! The relief wasn't as immediate as he had hoped, but the relief came nonetheless.

"Now tell me again," Kestra asked, "why couldn't you just roll over to the switch and then stand up?"

Worf would have hit her but he couldn't move at the moment.

* * *

[1] Arex was the tripodal, orange skinned Edosian from the Star Trek animated series.


End file.
